


The Soldier's Kittens

by exclamation



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Bear - Freeform, Everyone Needs A Hug, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-17 13:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exclamation/pseuds/exclamation
Summary: Hydra once gave the Winter Soldier a kitten to care for as a reward. Now Steve wants Bucky to be friends with Sam, but Bucky has learned his lesson. He will never show he cares for anything or anyone ever again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: horrible things will happen to the kitten. Some stuff is shown in the story, other stuff is implied. If reading about animal abuse is an issue for you, please click the back button now. 
> 
> This is an AU that diverges from the canon some time after CA:WS. Steve found Bucky and has brought him to the Avengers Tower to recover, but Bucky is still acting more like the Winter Soldier than a person.

"This is for you, Soldier," the handler said. "This is your reward for your service."

The Soldier took the small creature from the handler, the little bundle of fluff sitting on the metal hand. He studied the kitten, uncertain what to do now. He had not been given instructions on how to deal with small kittens.

"What should I do with it?" the Soldier asked.

The handler smiled. "Care for it. Through your obedience, you will earn food and water for it. You may earn other rewards for it if your success on missions is sufficient. The kitten is yours."

The handler left and the Soldier brought its flesh hand up to touch the soft fur on the back of the kitten's head. The kitten leaned into the touch and began to purr.

\---

"Sam is worried you don't like him," Steve said.

Bucky was working on a weights machine in the gym, the one designed by Stark so that it could accommodate the weights needed to give the likes of Steve and Bucky a real workout. Steve's statement didn't require an answer so Bucky remained silent and continued with his workout.

"Do you like Sam?" Steve asked.

"No," Bucky answered. It was bad enough that these people knew he liked Steve, but he couldn't hope to undo that damage now, and at least Steve was a valuable enough asset that he was unlikely to be used as leverage against Bucky. He outranked both Bucky and Sam. Sam on the other hand was valuable but he didn't have enhanced powers and his wing pack was removable. It would take effort to train another person to use the wings as well as he could, so he would not be sacrificed carelessly, but he was still far from indispensable.

"Sam's a really good guy," Steve said. "I think you'd like him if you spent more time with him."

Bucky said nothing. He would not show any interest in Sam, just as he had not shown any interest when Steve had taken him to the animal shelter to try and get him to interact with the dogs there. He knew this trap and he wouldn't fall into it twice. Steve looked sad as he watched him. Would Steve be punished because Bucky refused to show a weakness in this way?

"Maybe you could hang out with Sam sometime, without me there, really get to know him." It was stated like a suggestion but Bucky knew it for what it was; it was an order. He would be expected to spend time with Sam and so he would do just that, but that didn't mean he would demonstrate any caring for the man. Sam was a fighter. He was skilled and resourceful and dedicated his time to the improvement of his skills with admirable effort. He deserved better than to be Bucky's weakness.

Bucky gave a nod, accepting the instruction from Steve but not letting any emotion show on his face. He knew that emotion could be used against him.

\---

Early the next morning, Bucky used the air vents to get inside Sam's sleeping quarters because the situation was not important enough to attempt to bypass the building's locks; he would save that for an emergency. Sam's apartment was not as large as Steve's, but he had more space that was necessary, perhaps a sign that Sam was valuable to command or perhaps a reward that could be withheld to control him. Bucky had refused to show interest in material possessions as well, not wanting them to used this as a weakness either. Perhaps Sam had not been taught that lesson yet.

Bucky went into the bedroom and gave Sam a prod. Sam woke with a start, yelping a little when he saw Bucky looming over him.

"What the hell, man?" he asked. Then in a gentler tone, "What's wrong?"

"Steve told me I should spend more time with you," Bucky informed him. "We will work out together this morning."

"Ugh. Like I don't have enough of being humiliated by supersoldiers with Steve. Sure. Let me get dressed." Sam flung the covers off and started to stand. "Could you do me a favour and put the coffee on?"

Bucky waited in the kitchen but didn't put the coffee machine on. He wouldn't do anything for Sam that wasn't part of a mission or something requested by Steve. He didn't want anyone to see him doing anything that might be seen to make Sam's life easier. He didn't want anything to show that he might care about Sam's wellbeing.

Sam grumbled when he came in and saw the empty coffee pot. He started it running himself while he put some bread in to toast.

"I'm not working out on an empty stomach," he said, "not with you. I'll probably collapse from lack of energy half way through if I'm not careful."

Regular nutrition was important to the maintenance of combat readiness, but Bucky felt that Sam could do with a bit of practice at fighting under less than ideal circumstances. He was a good fighter, but his training hadn’t been as rigorous as Bucky’s. He wouldn’t know how to push himself through pain or exhaustion or hunger or thirst the way Bucky had practiced.

But it was not for Bucky to make such decisions for Sam. If Steve wasn’t pushing Sam to train in those ways, that was his decision. It meant that Bucky would remain more valuable than Sam which couldn’t be a bad thing for him personally.

Bucky waited until Sam had eaten his toast and drunk his coffee and then they walked down to the gym together. Once there, Bucky dictated their activities, stretching a little and then saying that they would warm up on the treadmills before moving on to combat practice. That Bucky set his machine to approximately three times the speed Sam set his at was not a deliberate effort to show his physical superiority, but simply a desire to ensure that he had exercised sufficiently.

After the running, Bucky led the way over to the mats. Sam stopped to get the protective gear.

This was something Steve insisted on during sparring sessions, saying that they didn’t want to injure each other. Bucky disliked having to be swaddled in padding, but he put on the helmet and gloves and groin guard because Steve had told them that they should use them. Steve was his commanding officer now and that meant he had to be obeyed even though Bucky thought it highly unlikely that Sam would be able to injure him, especially not in a training session where neither would be attempting anything lethal.

Besides, he could heal.

He almost resented the padding Sam wore more than his own protective gear. He was skilled enough that he could easily kill Sam despite these protections if he so chose, and able to control his movements and strength enough to prevent any serious injury even without them.

Bucky tried not to think about these things and went onto the mats to begin unarmed sparring. They moved carefully around each other, trying to land blows. Bucky moved at a slower speed than he was capable of doing, giving Sam a chance, but he still dodged and wove around Sam, breaking through his defences to land light taps to his back or sides before dodging away again without Sam even getting close to touching him.

“You rely on your wings too much,” Bucky told him. It wasn’t showing caring. It was helping a team member improve his combat skills, which was important for the team and for his own survival on missions.

“What do you mean? I’m not using my wings.” Sam was already out of breath.

“You’re used to using them. You don’t know how to move when you’re on your feet.” 

Bucky feinted right, moved left, twisted out of the way of Sam’s attempted punch, and landing another tap to Sam’s back before Sam could manage to turn and face him.

“Point taken,” Sam said.

They spent some time working on Sam’s footwork, Bucky telling Sam to ignore the punches and blocks until he could move and stand better. Sam did his best, but he was no match for a supersoldier’s speed or stamina. Before an hour was up, he was drenched in sweat and struggling for breath. Bucky barely felt warm but he suspected that the training would be valuable should Sam ever lose his wings in a fight again. That might save both their lives one day so Bucky didn’t resent that he would have to do a solo workout to really feel he’d trained his body today.

“Oh, hey,” came a cheerful voice from the doorway as Sam and Bucky were getting water, Sam drinking so fast he appeared to be attempting to defeat even Stark’s water cooling system. Bucky turned to face Steve. Perhaps he would get a good workout after all.

“Hi, Steve,”� Bucky said. Sam gave a little wave, since he was still busy downing the contents of his water bottle for the third time.

“You OK there, Sam?” Steve asked.

“I’m fine,” Sam said, refilling his water bottle again. “Trying to keep up with supersoldiers is tough, but at least Bucky is less of an asshole about it, Mr On-Your-Left.” 

He was grinning as he said it and Steve returned the expression, not at all angry at being insulted by an underling. A part of Bucky still flinched and waited for a punishment, but he didn’t let any of that show on his face. The fact that it had been Sam to insult Steve might not be enough to protect Bucky from punishment if Steve decided to get angry.

“Bucky’s been giving me some good advice,” Sam said, when it became clear that Bucky wasn’t going to join in the laughing insults.

“Oh?” said Steve. He asked Bucky, “What’s the main thing you think Sam needs to do?”

Bucky could have answered footwork, which was what they’d been working on, but Steve had asked about the main thing and there was something much more important for Sam.

“Get a mask,” Bucky answered.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked. He looked surprised and confused, which proved Bucky’s point.

“You show everything,” Bucky gestured to his face. “You’re happy, you’re afraid, you’re angry, you’re confused, it’s all written on your face for anyone to see. It can be used against you. If you can’t learn to keep your emotions hidden, wear a mask.” 

“Hide my emotions,” Sam said, “the way you do?”

“Yes.”

Steve took a step towards Bucky. His hand twitched like he meant to reach out and touch him, but his arm remained at his side.

“Bucky,” he said, “it’s OK to show emotions, you know. Maybe in combat or among enemies, it helps to hide them, but you’re among friends now. You can show how you feel and no one is going to use it against you.” 

Steve sounded like he actually meant what he said, like he believed that no one would use Bucky’s feelings against him. Perhaps he meant that he wouldn’t use those feelings against him, but he couldn’t promise no one would. This building was full of security cameras and Stark’s AI was always watching. There was no telling who else might be watching the footage. Bucky believed that Steve didn’t mean him any harm, but that didn’t mean that those he reported to could be trusted. Steve took orders from others and that meant Bucky still had to be on guard.

He always had to be on guard.

\---

“You did well today, Soldier,” the handler said as the Soldier limped back to his cell. He could barely see out of his left eye because of the blood and the swelling, but he had managed to fight despite the pain, taking out all those that were sent to test him, even when they were better armed or came in greater numbers.

Every part of him ached but the aches were worth it because they meant the reward. Sure enough, as they reached the cell, the handler retrieved some items from his pocket and handed them to the Soldier: a small bottle of milk and a container of cat food.

The handler unlocked the door and the asset walked inside. Immediately, Kitten started rubbing against his legs, mewling hungrily. The asset crouched to rub her behind the ears.

“It’s alright, little one,” he told her. “I have food for you today.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see that warning about animal abuse in the tags? Yeah. There's some of that in this chapter. If you don't want to read it, skip over the section that starts "Your performance on this mission was sloppy."

“Hey, man,” Sam said with a smile, “I thought we could watch a movie together. What do you think?”

Bucky considered the request for a minute before answering. “Yes.”

“Really?” Sam sounded a little surprised, no doubt because Bucky had always refused his requests before.

“Steve told me I had to spend time with you.”

“Oh.” Sam really did need to work on hiding his emotions. The disappointment in his voice was obvious. He carried on anyway, talking about the movie he wanted to watch as they walked to the tower’s common area together and asking Bucky if he wanted some popcorn.

“Popcorn is an inefficient source of calories providing little of nutritional benefit.”

“You can eat stuff just because it tastes good,” Sam told him. “It doesn’t all have to be about nutritional benefit.”

Bucky had had similar discussions with Steve about eating food because of the taste or suggesting that he should take bubble baths instead of showers because of physical pleasure. Steve kept trying to make him do things that were nice but Bucky understood that tactic. Once he had shown interest in something pleasant, he could be threatened with its removal as punishment. It was better not to show enjoyment of anything to avoid having it taken away.

If Bucky showed complete disinterest in anything except maintenance of his combat-ready status, no one would see any reason to restrict him from preparing meals with Steve so that they could eat together or watching episodes of Star Trek sitting on Steve’s couch with Steve so close that Bucky could almost feel the heat of him.

In the common area, Sam made the popcorn and poured it into a large bowl. He sat beside Bucky and tilted the bowl towards him.

“Take some,” Sam said. “Have some nutritional inefficiency.”

Because it was phrased as an order, Bucky could take a handful of popcorn without betraying undue interest. He started eating mechanically as Sam selected the movie to watch.

Sam picked a movie about a group of people in England not noticing a zombie apocalypse for a surprising length of time and then reacting in a highly illogical and ineffective manner.

Sam kept glancing towards Bucky through the movie, watching to see his reaction at the particularly funny moments, but Bucky kept his face carefully blank.

At the end, Sam asked, “What did you think?”

“It was astonishing that any of the characters survived until the end because the pub that was their chosen refuge was not defensible.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Sam said. “It’s meant to be funny, entertainment. It’s not a training guide on how to survive an actual zombie apocalypse.” Sam considered a moment. “It says a lot about my life that I now think we might want a real one of those, just in case.”

Bucky understood that the movie was meant purely as entertainment, just like the Star Trek episodes bore no resemblance to the aliens Steve had actually fought, he just couldn’t admit to being entertained by it.

“Maybe we should watch something from when you were younger,” Sam said, “something you liked before.”

“It upsets Steve when I don’t remember them.”

”But do you want to try? There are a number of films I’d love to be able to watch for the first time all over again.”

“It upsets Steve when I don’t remember them,” Bucky repeated. It was hard to believe that Sam could be so unconcerned about the moods of their commander.

“This isn’t about what Steve wants. This is about what you want.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“There’s got to be something that you want.”

Bucky understood then. He had to have something he wanted, something that they could use to control him. Steve was pushing him to like Sam because he refused to show any interest in the foods and entertainment he kept pushing Bucky to try.

Bucky had to show them that he wanted something, and if he didn’t Steve was going to keep pushing him to be friends with Sam. This was a danger to both of them, one he needed to avoid, and the only way to avoid it was by giving Steve what he required. He would have to find something to make them believe he wanted. 

He would have to plan carefully, to show his interest in something that it would be acceptable to lose because it would be better to lose something material than the alternative. He would also have to be careful how he showed it, because if he started smiling or declaring his enjoyment of a thing, Steve would know it was a deception and any punishment would be far worse.

\---

“Your performance on this mission was sloppy,” the handler said. “The SHIELD agent protecting your target is alive and a witness. Three loyal agents who were assisting you on this mission are dead.”

The Soldier knew that there was no point arguing that his orders hadn’t included the execution of the bodyguard, or that the agents had been sent on this mission precisely because they had been deemed expendable. He had completed the mission as ordered but it had been deemed imperfect and Hydra had no tolerance for imperfect obedience.

The handler opened the door to the cell and told the Soldier, “Bring the cat.”

The Soldier bent to pick up the animal he still thought of as Kitten despite how much she had grown since he’d first been given her. She came easily into his arms, purring into his chest, and the Soldier was filled with terror for the orders that might come next.

They went into a small lab, where a metal cage was set on a table, its lid open.

“Place the cat in the cage,” the handler ordered. For the first time in a very long time, the Soldier considered disobedience, but he knew that any disobedience would just increase the punishment. He placed Kitten into the cage and closed the lid, enclosing it on all sides in a metal mesh.

“Do not move until ordered,” the handler told him. “Watch the cat.”

Then he pressed a switch to send electricity through the metal of the cage. The cat yowled and screeched, tried to jump away from the floor, but there was nowhere it could go to escape the pain.

“Three minutes should be sufficient,” the handler said, over the noise of Kitten’s screeches. “For the three agents you let die.”

Those three minutes felt longer than any the Soldier could remember, far longer than if he were the one being electrocuted. At last, the charge stopped. Kitten mewled pitifully in the cage, but the Soldier was forced to remain still, waiting for the order that seemed to take forever to come.

At last, the handler said, “You can take the animal out and return to your cell.”�

Kitten made pitiful whimpering noises as the Soldier carried her back to their cell, stroking her head and trying to give comfort. Her fur was damp with pee from when she had lost control of her bladder and she shivered against his touch. He wished he could promise her that she wouldn’t be hurt like that again, but he knew that she might, if he ever failed in a mission or was considered to have performed badly. He hugged Kitten to his chest and knew that he would work harder at every future mission, obey every order flawlessly, because he could not accept them doing that to his Kitten ever again.

\---

Bucky spent some time on the internet because Steve had told him he should learn more about the things he’d missed as a prisoner of Hydra, or more of his old life before they had captured him. He knew many facts now about the man who had been Bucky Barnes, but it still took some time to settle on something he thought he could use.

When Steve came to start preparing their shared dinner, Bucky spoke without waiting for a direct question.

“There was a teddy bear made of me.”

Steve looked startled, but that expression of surprise turned into a genuine smile.

“The Bucky Bears, yeah, they were... I don’t know whether you were proud or embarrassed about them. It wasn’t like the Bucky Barnes character in the propaganda comics was much like you.”

Bucky looked at Steve as he spoke, but hoped his expression showed a trace of interest, just enough that Steve, who saw his blank expression daily, might register a difference.

“I could see if I could find one for you, if you’d like,” Steve said. "There must be one on eBay or something. Tony assures me you can get anything on eBay."

“Teddy bears serve no purpose,” Bucky answered.

“Their purpose is to look cute and be soft and cuddly. There doesn’t need to be any more purpose than that. Do you want me to get you one?”

On every previous occasion when Steve had asked him something similar, Bucky had simply told him no. This time, he said, “It’s not necessary.” 

It seemed the implication of desire was enough because Steve said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

\---

Bucky went to his next session with Dr Arthur and sat on the couch across from her as he always did. He hated these sessions because he knew that he was expected to talk but he didn’t know who she reported to. Both Dr Arthur and Steve had warned him that she didn’t report to Steve. She wasn’t telling him the information Bucky divulged in these sessions, so who was she talking to? Someone in SHIELD? The government? She’d told him that the sessions were confidential, so presumably it would be only those with very high clearance who had access to her notes on what he said but that just made it all the more dangerous. 

It was hard to judge what to say when he didn’t know who would be listening.

“How are you feeling today, James?” she began, as always.

“Fully functional,” Bucky answered, as he always did.

She now accepted that answer without pushing him to express it in terms of emotions.

“Is there anything you want to share with me?” she asked. As always, Bucky remained silent. Steve had told him to cooperate with Dr Arthur, but Bucky had been trained to resist interrogations, so he would not crumble in the face of a few words from this woman.

“How are things between you and Steve this week?” 

This was the opening, small as it was. Normally he would answer that things between him and Steve were normal. Today, he said, “Steve offered to buy me a Bucky Bear.” 

“A Bucky Bear?” It was hard to tell whether she was surprised because of the bear or just because he’d given her some actual information about something that had happened.

“It is a toy based on the propaganda comics published during World War Two about Captain America. It was made to resemble the character who had the same name as me.”

“And how do you feel about his offer?” When Bucky didn’t answer at once, she prompted, “Does it make you happy that he’s getting you things? Upset because he’s getting you something based on the person you were before Hydra? Worried that he thinks you want something from you that you can’t give?” When Bucky remained silent for another minute, she said, “Or confused because you don’t know how to feel? Or because you feel more than one thing at once?” 

There was a long silence. Bucky watched the clock out of the corner of his eye and nearly five minutes went past before Dr Arthur tried again to get him to speak.

“What do you think about the bear, James?”

“It’s an unnecessary thing.” 

She gave a nod, acknowledging his point. “Lots of things serve no practical function, but it’s still alright to have them, to like them. Why do you think I have this on the wall?” She gestured towards a print of an image made up of leaves and flowers.

“The image has a psychological effect on patients,” Bucky suggested.

“I have it because it’s pretty and I like having things that are pretty. You spent a very long time, James, being treated like a possession, denied anything but bare necessities. I know it must be hard to adjust from that but now you’re free. Now you have the opportunity to do some possessing of your own. You can enjoy things that are pretty or fun or nostalgic, just because you want them.” 

It came down to want again. She, like Steve, was pushing for him to want things. He supposed it made sense. People were easier to control once it was clear what they wanted.

“Do you want the Bucky Bear, James?” Dr Arthur asked.

Bucky didn’t say anything, didn’t dare offer that much willingness to bend. Too much eagerness would be met with suspicion. But he nodded his head, just a tiny fraction of an inch.

Dr Arthur saw the movement and smiled, obviously happy to have been given this answer. She would report to whoever it was she reported to that Bucky wanted the toy bear. Hopefully that would be enough for them to feel they had some control over him and Steve would stop pushing him to be friends with Sam.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to skip the animal abuse bits, skip past the flashback scene that starts with "You disobeyed, Soldier."

The bear arrived three days later. Steve came to find Bucky in the gym one morning and brought him back to the apartment where a package sat on the counter waiting.

“You didn’t open it,” Bucky said.

“Of course not. This is for you.”

No doubt Jarvis had scanned the package for bombs or other threats prior to the package being sent up here. Bucky took a knife from the kitchen drawer to slice through the tape holding the package shut. He eased the flaps open.

Inside the package, nestled in polystyrene peanuts, was a small bear in a blue jacket and a mask. Bucky used his human hand to lift the bear out, feeling the softness of its slightly threadbare fur under his skin.

“Well?” Steve asked, shifting a little from foot to foot as though anxious. Was it really so critical to him that Bucky find something that he would acknowledge liking? He could only imagine the pressure Steve had to be getting from his superiors to make sure there was a way to control the Winter Soldier.

If it was so important to Steve, Bucky would give them that way, through this ridiculous bear that meant nothing to him, just a pile of fluff and fabric he could lose with no sadness or pain. So long as they thought it mattered to him, that was enough.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly.

Steve’s grin was dazzling.

“You’re welcome, Buck.”

That grin would be something it would hurt Bucky to lose and Steve’s superiors probably knew that, but Bucky also knew that Captain America was far more valuable to them than the Winter Soldier. While Steve would make an effective source of control for Bucky, the cost would be too high for them to use it. He could be glad about that and let a little of that feeling show around his eyes. If Steve thought the softening of his hard mask was for the bear, so much the better.

Bucky carried the bear through into the bedroom he’d been given and set it down on the bedside table. He would be able to look at it as he fell asleep. He hadn’t found the security cameras in the bedroom but he knew they would be there and whoever watched the footage would see him watching the bear and interpret it as Bucky wanted them to.

\---

Bucky could hear Steve’s voice as he approached the gym. He slowed down, making sure his steps were quiet, almost noiseless despite the hard floor, so that Steve wouldn’t cut short his conversation. It was possible that Jarvis had informed Steve that Bucky was approaching and that this entire conversation was a charade for Bucky’s benefit, but that seemed unlikely. Steve wasn’t good at deception.

“It’s a good sign, right?” Steve asked someone.

“It’s alarming how low a bar we have round here for what constitutes a good sign,” Sam answered, “but, yeah, thanking you for the bear is a pretty good sign.”

“I just wish I knew what to do next. I can’t just buy him a whole mountain of Bucky Bears just because this is the first time he’s expressed interest in anything other than working out.”

“Is it the nostalgia he’s interested in?”

“He hasn’t been interested in anything before. The war, the Commandoes, anything from before the war, he just stares at it blankly. He’s memorised a bunch of his history but I’ve never got a sense that he’s connected with anything until now. There’s something different about the bear.”

“You could try getting him other toys, see if he shows any interest in beanie babies or something.”

“Be serious, Sam.”

“I am. Mostly. Maybe there’s something about the cuddly toy that grabbed him, or maybe it’s the old propaganda. You might be able to find more of that stuff and see if he cares.”

“I showed him some of the footage from the Smithsonian but he stared at it as blankly as when we watch Star Trek, but maybe there’s some other stuff I could dig up to see if he’s interested.”

“Just keep trying. There will be other things that engage him eventually. He’s just had a long time with hobbies or interests; it’s bound to take some time to adjust.”

Bucky crept away before they could realise he’d been listening, turning their words over in his mind. The bear wasn’t enough. They wanted him interested in more things. He supposed that made sense. After all, they could only punish him by destroying the bear once.

\---

“You disobeyed, Soldier. Disobedience is unacceptable. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” the Soldier answered. He hadn’t meant to disobey. He had misunderstood the order. The commander had spoken in euphemisms regarding the child and the Soldier had believed that he was meant to leave the child alive. If the man had simply said to kill the child as well as the ambassador, the Soldier would have done so. He didn’t argue though because arguing just made the punishments worse.

“You will obey every order you are given without hesitation and without question. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Then you will go back to your cell and you will kill your cat. Go now.”

Fury melted the ice that filled the Soldier as he walked away. Anger and hate burned inside him like the rage of suns. He had been given Kitten as a reward, as his to care for. Kitten was his. She did not deserve to die because a commander couldn’t give clear orders. She didn’t deserve to die.

The Soldier wanted to go back into that room and punch the handler so hard that his head was embedded in the concrete wall, but killing that man would make the punishment worse. Someone else would kill Kitten and they would make it hurt. They would make the Soldier watch while she yowled for mercy. At the least the Soldier knew how to make a death quick and easy.

He walked inside the cell and Kitten limped up to him on her three legs. The fourth had been lost to another punishment but she had adapted. She was strong. The Soldier didn’t dare hesitate as she wove her way around his legs. He sat down on the floor of the cell, took Kitten into his lap, and snapped her neck with one firm grip of his metal hand.

He sat there for some time, as the limp form grew stiff in his lap, running his flesh hand over her soft fur for the last time. His body hunched over hers and her fur grew wet with tears he hadn’t known he was able to cry.

The Soldier had been hurt thousands of times in his existence, so often that most of his memories were filled with pain, but nothing had hurt as much as this moment, as knowing that his Kitten was dead by his own hand.

\---

Steve bought him another present, and Bucky accepted it because it would be easier to deal with the loss of material goods as punishment than to face the punishment by proxy of something that could scream.

Something thin was inside an envelope, sandwiched between two pieces of card to protect it during transportation. Bucky half-expected the envelope to contain a briefing or some military documents, but what he pulled out was brightly coloured, albeit slightly faded, and decorated with an image of a figure in a blue coat and eye mask. He knew this was one of the propaganda comics produced during the Second World War. This was the continuation of Steve’s efforts to find something he liked.

Bucky laid the comic down on the counter and carefully lifted the front cover, aware of a slight tear near the bottom that he would need to be cautious to avoid damaging further. He read the words and looked at the bright panels that told a story of an attack by Captain America and the Howling Commandoes. When Captain America didn’t meet up with the rest at the appointed time, the Bucky Barnes character went back to find him and led the Commandoes in a rescue mission to save him from Hydra.

“The stories were all nonsense, of course,” Steve said, as Bucky closed the back cover over the story. “Most of our actual missions were classified, so the writers just took whatever fragments were released to the press and a whole load of bullshit to come up with our whacky adventures. Sometimes, people would ask us to sign them and ask if the stories were true and none of us knew what to say because we couldn’t just admit they were all a bunch of lies.”

“It’s a bunch of lies,” Bucky repeated.

“The story, I mean. The Commandoes were real, and we really fought battles together, but none of the people behind the comics knew enough to make these accurate. You did fight by my side.”

Bucky looked down at the comic for a long while. He knew that he’d once served Captain America, before Hydra had erased his memory and made him work for them instead. Steve had promised he wasn’t going to be punished for that since it hadn’t been his fault, but there were other things which did merit punishment.

“What do you think?” Steve asked. “Of the comic?”

“In the story,” Bucky said, “Bucky Barnes disobeyed you. He went back to rescue Captain America after being ordered to wait but he wasn’t punished.”

“Well no. He saved the day. In the story, he was the hero.”

“But just in the story.”

“On the real missions too, you saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“But I obeyed you.”

“Most of the time. Not always. When I came to rescue you, my very first mission as Captain America, I got cut off and I ordered you to leave. You told me, ‘No, not without you,’ and refused to leave until I figured out a way to get out too.”

“I disobeyed,” Bucky said the words in a whisper, feeling the horror and dread set in, even though the disobedience was decades ago and would have been long since punished. Unless Steve decided that the punishment didn’t count if he couldn’t remember it.

“The Howling Commandoes weren’t like Hydra,” Steve said, “and we weren’t much like the regular military either. Hell, we had a captain giving orders to a major and we all just went with it. You followed my commands in battle and went with my strategies, but you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me where to stick it if I was in the wrong about something.”

“You allowed your team to question your orders.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t punish them.”

“Of course not. I told you, we weren’t like the regular military and I doubt anything the US military would have done as punishment would have come even close to whatever Hydra considered punishments.”

Steve had told Bucky more than once that he wasn’t going to hurt him, but there were still a great many punishments that didn’t involve physical pain or that involved other people inflicting it. Steve could order Bucky to hurt himself without breaking the promise. Bucky had accepted the statement without questioning it because there were so many loopholes around it and commanders loved loopholes. Hearing him say that he didn’t punish his team at all was harder for Bucky to wrap his head around. All commanders punished their subordinates. It was what commanders did.

Just because Bucky hadn’t seen Steve do it yet didn’t meant that he wouldn’t.

Steve continued talking, “Sometimes, even the US military wouldn’t punish someone for disobeying orders if they managed to do something impressive enough. My first mission as Captain America was unsanctioned. I’d been told that there wasn’t going to be a rescue mission and I went anyway, on my own, into enemy territory. Because I managed to rescue more than a hundred captured soldiers, I was given a medal instead of punishment and was granted my own command.”

Bucky considered this.

“An act of disobedience can be rewarded instead of punished if it furthers the overall goal?” he asked. A Hydra commander would have beaten him to unconsciousness for simply daring to ask a question like that. Even thinking of disobeying was unacceptable to them. But Steve smiled at him.

“Exactly,” Steve said. “And we’re talking about military situations hear, not day-to-day life. If we were on a mission and I gave you an order, I would generally want you to follow it, but right now, in this tower, this is your home. You don’t have to obey me or anyone.”

That didn’t make sense. Of course Bucky had to obey Steve; Steve was his commander. And if he wasn’t obeying Steve, then he would be expected to obey the orders of whoever was above Steve.

Bucky could only suppose that this was a test. He’d been tested before, watched to see if he had the appropriate reactions. Steve was probably telling him he didn’t have to obey to see how he reacted. Bucky said nothing. He didn’t agree with Steve, but he didn’t argue either. He simply stood there, waiting for another statement that he could evaluate.

When none came, he carefully placed the comic book between the two sheets of cardboard to protect it and carried it back through to his bedroom. He set the comic book down on an otherwise empty shelf.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those people skipping the flashback scenes, this chapter's begins "This is for you, Soldier." 
> 
> I feel like I should put in an anti-warning. Nothing bad will happen to Tabby. Something bad _nearly_ happens to her, but not quite. I'm trying to make this reassurance as unspoilery as possible so just know that she will come out of this OK.

“I think I’m getting better,” Sam said, between gulps of water. “I nearly hit you there at least once.”

“No, you didn’t,” Bucky told him. He was continuing to spend time with Sam because Steve hadn’t told him to do otherwise, but he made certain to show no emotion in these interactions, nothing to show that he felt anything towards Sam at all. He certainly didn’t show the faint hint of pride he felt at the improvements in Sam’s movements, which were all down to his coaching.

“You don’t pull your punches, do you?” Sam said.

“I have been pulling all my punches, otherwise you would be dead by now.”

Sam smiled, obviously amused. He had listened to Bucky’s lessons on movements but failed to listen to his advice on keeping his emotions concealed.

“You are a lesson on the importance of clear communication,” Sam said. “That’s what I like about you.”

Dread filled Bucky at the thought that he might be the one used as punishment. If those above them knew that Sam liked Bucky, then they might hurt Bucky to punish Sam. Bucky was more valuable, a greater asset in combat, so such punishments wouldn’t be taken lightly, but there were a great many ways to hurt him that wouldn’t permanently impeded his combat effectiveness.

He didn’t want to be the kitten.

The need to stop any signs of affection before they could be used against him overruled his usual refusal to show any emotional reaction at all.

Bucky grabbed Sam, sweeping his leg out from under him. The water bottle went flying, sending a spray across the gym. Sam barely managed a yelp of surprise before he was on the floor, pinned to the hard ground away from the sparring mats, with his arm twisted painfully up his back in the Soldier’s relentless, metal grip.

“Ow. Stop. I yield. Uncle.” Sam tried to tug away from Bucky’s grip, but Bucky just twisted harder, bringing Sam to the edge of a dislocated shoulder. He leaned down close over him, bringing his mouth right against Sam’s ear.

“Never let them see that you care about anyone or anything,” Bucky whispered, as quietly as he could manage, hoping that the security cameras weren’t sensitive enough to pick up the sound. Sam went still under him. He’d heard.

“Bucky!” Steve’s shout rang across the gym. He hurried over to them but Bucky was already releasing Sam’s arm and getting to his feet. Sam swung round into a sitting position, rubbing at his sore shoulder with his other hand. He would be uninjured. Even as he had been delivering his message, Bucky had made sure that Sam’s head would not impact the hard floor with too much force or that his arm would be too badly damaged. Just enough to make the message sink in.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked. He sounded angrier than Bucky had ever heard him. He knew that a punishment would be coming his way soon, but at least it would not involve Sam.

“I was giving a lesson,” Bucky said.

Steve looked down at Sam, who was still clutching his shoulder.

“Not like this,” he said. “We don’t attack our friends.”

“Sam isn’t my friend,” Bucky told him. He turned and walked out of the gym, expecting at every moment for Steve to call him back, to reprimand him or announce what the punishment would be. But Steve just let him leave.

\---

“This is for you, Soldier,” the handler said. “A reward for your recent successes.”

He held out a small bundle of fluff, a little kitten so young that it looked barely old enough to be apart from its mother. It mewled pitifully as the Soldier took it in his metal hand.

He knew what life this little kitten had in store for it. He knew about the days going hungry because the Soldier hadn’t done enough to earn food for it. He knew about the electric shocks and amputations, and being flung into buckets of icy water to flail and hiss. He knew how this kitten would die, by his own hand, when he failed at something and needed to be punished. He knew that he would do it, to give it the mercy of a quick death instead of one drawn out and painful.

He knew how much it would hurt. How much the future would hurt for both of them.

If he let it, this little kitten would become his greatest weakness and those above him would not hesitate for one instant to use it against him. Then they would start the cycle again, bringing some other innocent creature into this world once they’d forced this one out of it. How many other creatures would suffer like his precious Kitten for the sake of controlling him? The Soldier decided that this would be the last one. The Soldier waited until the handler had left and the door closed behind him. Then he set the kitten down and placed his metal hand over the small creature, dwarfing head and back with those cold fingers. He tightened the grip and killed the kitten in one swift, merciful snap.

This time, he didn’t let them see him cry about it.

\---

“Hey, Buck, we need to talk.” Steve sounded very much like he was trying not to be angry when he returned to the apartment about half an hour after Bucky.

Bucky had been sitting on the couch, silently waiting for Steve and the impending punishment. He supposed talking first wasn’t an unexpected development; Steve liked talking to him and would want to explain why he needed to be punished. Bucky looked to Steve, waiting for the lecture to begin. Steve sat down next to him, reached out a hand and the reconsidered. He grasped his hands tightly in his lap, as though trying to prevent them from acting on their own and reaching out to Bucky.

“Bucky, what you did back there, attacking Sam when you weren’t sparring, that wasn’t right. You can’t go around attacking people.”

“I didn’t cause any lasting injury.”

“This...” Steve made a frustrated noise. He stood and paced a few steps away before turning back to Bucky. “This isn’t about injuring him. You hurt him.”

Bucky met his gaze, not looking anything show on his features, not letting Steve or anyone who might be watching on the security cameras see that he cared one way or the other about Sam being hurt.

Steve sat down again beside Bucky and looked him in the eye.

“You might not consider Sam a friend,” Steve said, “but I do, and I don’t like to see my friends get hurt. Do you understand?”

“You don’t want me to hurt Sam.”

“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t want you to hurt Sam, but this is about more than that. You can’t just go around attacking people. Hurting people is, in general, a bad thing. We fight Hydra and alien invaders and criminals because otherwise they would hurt a lot more people. We hurt the people who are doing the hurting but we wouldn’t hurt someone just for the sake of it. Do you understand?”

Bucky considered. “I should only hurt the people you say it’s OK to hurt.”

“Not exactly what I was going for in terms of moral reasoning, but it’s a start. We can work from that. Don’t attack anyone unless I say it’s OK.”

Bucky nodded his understanding, but he hadn’t forgotten their earlier conversations.

“You said it was alright to disobey you if we weren’t in a combat situation,” Bucky said. “Could I disobey you in this?”

He already knew what the answer to that question was, knew that he was pushing his luck by even asking the question. He would be punished for this as well as for hurting Sam. Steve didn’t answer right away. He looked at Bucky with the trying-not-to-be-angry expression on his face again.

“It’s not just about what I want or what I’ll do,” he said. “Half the governments in the world want you extradited and tried for what you did as the Winter Soldier. I’ve been trying to protect you from that. I’m trying to convince them that you can be more than Hydra’s asset, a real person again, and if you go around attacking people unprovoked, I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you from the consequences.”

This was the closest Steve had come to acknowledging the people who gave him orders, acknowledging that he wasn’t the only person with influence, the only person who got to call the shots. Steve might not want to punish Bucky but other people would. Other people wouldn’t hesitate to use whatever they could to hurt him.

“I won’t attack Sam again,” Bucky said.

“Good.”

“I’m doing this because you told me to,” Bucky continued, needing to drive home the point for whichever of Steve’s superiors might be watching, “not because I like him.”

Steve’s lips pressed together tightly, then he said, “Noted.”

There didn’t seem to be anything more to say, but Steve stayed beside Bucky on the couch, looking at him. Now he looked more sad than angry.

“Why don’t you like Sam, Buck?” he asked. Bucky wasn’t sure how to answer that and when he didn’t say anything, Steve continued. “Is it a race thing? Did Hydra fill your head with some racist bullshit?”

That idea surprised Bucky, so much so that he probably let a little of it show on his face.

“Hydra didn’t care about my opinions on race or anything else,” Bucky told him.

“Then why are you so against Sam?”

“I don’t like anyone,” Bucky said. Then, because he knew that anyone watching would already know that was a lie and might question everything else, he added, “Except you.”

“I like you too, Buck, but a person can like lots of people. I like you and I like Sam. I like Nat. I like Tony when he’s not being an asshole. A person can have lots of friends.”

Those were a lot of weaknesses Steve had just admitted to. It made Bucky long to reach out and press his hands over Steve’s mouth to smother the words, to keep him from announcing his vulnerabilities to anyone who happened to be listening.

“I don’t like anyone else,” Bucky said. “I won’t like anyone else.”

He looked Steve in the eyes. He wouldn’t fall victim to this trap again, wouldn’t let himself be seen to care. Steve might order him to spend time with Sam but nothing would make Bucky acknowledge the slightest hint of affection for him or for anyone else. It hurt too much when it was turned against him.

They had stripped him of his weapons and his armour, but they wouldn’t strip him of this defence.

\---

“Hey, Bucky, I’ve brought you a present,” Steve said.

He came into the apartment carrying a small, plastic cage. Bucky’s heart started pounding frantically at the sight of it. He wanted to run and hide from the knowledge at what it must contain. Had Steve seen this in the Hydra files? Did he know?

Had he picked this method to torture him because he didn’t like inflicting physical pain as punishment?

Steve set the plastic cage down on the kitchen counter and opened the front. He reached inside to pull out a little ball of tabby fluff.

“This is Tabitha,” Steve said. “Yes, I know, she’s named after a pun but I didn’t pick it. I was thinking about what you said the other day, about not knowing how to like people, and I thought we could start small. I thought maybe if you could look after Tabby here, if you could learn how to care for her, it would open you up to interacting more with people, making friends, having relationships, things like that.”

He gave a hopeful little smile and held the kitten out towards Bucky.

Bucky’s heart was still racing as he reached out to take it. He was angry at Steve, angrier than he’d been at any of the previous handlers or commanders or guards who had inflicted punishment. He had known those other handlers would hurt him, expected it. He only realised now, as he took the kitten in his hands, that he’d expected Steve to be different.

He knew that the punishments would hurt even worse coming from Steve. He hadn’t known it was possible for something to be worse than what he’d gone through with his precious Kitten, but now he knew it could be. Facing those punishments from Steve was something he wasn’t sure he would be able to survive.

Bucky placed the kitten down on the counter and put his metal hand over the vulnerable neck. He braced himself for what he was about to do, the horrible sound he knew it would make and the stillness that would follow. He tried to close off his heart to the feelings the way he’d closed off his face.

“Bucky, stop! Don’t!” Steve’s voice was almost frantic with panic. Bucky looked at him, his metal hand frozen over the kitten’s neck. The kitten gave a little mew of discomfort as she couldn’t wriggle free.

“Please tell me you’re not trying to do what it looks like you’re trying to do,” Steve said.

“I’m going to break its neck,” Bucky told him.

In a heartbeat, Steve had his hand on Bucky’s wrist, pulling upwards. Bucky yielded without hesitation, releasing his grip. Steve took hold of the kitten and backed away quickly, cradling the small creature in his arms. There was an expression of horror and fear on his face as he looked at Bucky, as though Bucky had just done something truly awful.

Something heart-breaking.

Bucky suspected that if he’d allowed his face to show his feelings, his would have shown something similar in the moment when he’d been ordered to kill his Kitten.

Steve looked as though he was the one being punished with threats of pain to Tabby. Bucky wondered if he’d been mistaken about Steve’s intentions here. He saw the way Steve cradled Tabitha in his arms and doubted Steve would be capable of ordering pain to this kitten, even as a punishment for Bucky.

He looked like he might be sick.

“I need... I have to go.”

Steve kept Tabitha cradled in one arm and grabbed the plastic cage with the other. He was at the door before Bucky could say anything, and then he was gone. Bucky stood there, looking after him, wondering what he could say or do to fix this.

He had hurt Steve. He hadn’t meant to but there could be no doubt that he had. He had hurt Steve and that hurt him, as surely as an intentional punishment. Bucky was still vulnerable to another’s pain, but this time the pain had been one he inflicted.

Bucky didn’t understand. If Steve hadn’t brought him the kitten with the intention of using it to hurt him, then why had he brought it?

He needed answers and he wasn’t going to get them standing here alone.

“Jarvis,” he called out to the empty room, “where is Steven Rogers?”

“Captain Rogers has just exited the elevator on Sam Wilson’s floor.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No flashbacks in this one.

Bucky went to the air vents again, climbing into the space between floors, manoeuvring as quietly as he was able through the ducts and small spaces until he reached the area above Sam’s quarters. Normally, he liked the solitude of the vents, the knowledge that he could move about the tower and not be seen by anyone, except the all-seeing Jarvis and occasionally Barton. Today though, he had something more important in mind than enjoying the quiet.

He found his way to the air conditioning outlet above Sam’s living room and listened to the voices that were drifting up through the thin slats.

“Whose reaction to seeing a helpless kitten is to try and kill it?” Steve was asking. The distress was obvious in his voice.

“Maybe he thought that was what you wanted?” Sam said, but he sounded doubtful even as he said it.

“I told him I wanted him to care for it and he decided to kill it. He decided killing something was a better option than caring.”

Sam didn’t answer.

Bucky positioned himself better so that he could see through the slats. Steve was sitting on the floor, dangling a piece of string for the kitten to play with. Steve’s eyes were fixed on the scampering kitten but he looked like he might start crying. Bucky wanted to go down there, to reach out, to see if he could do something to take that expression away.

“Am I fooling myself to think that I can save him?” Steve asked.

“These things take time,” Sam said. Bucky noticed that he hadn’t actually answered the question. He was sure that Steve had noticed too.

“I keep trying to tell myself he’s getting better. He’s going to therapy, he’ll have dinner with me and come to movie nights, but it’s like he’s not connecting with anything. His face is always so blank. It’s like Hydra burned all his feelings out of him.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Sam answered. “I think he feels as much as anyone but it’s been used against him for so long he’s terrified of letting anyone see it. Remember the advice he gave me? He told me to learn how to hide my feelings or wear a mask. That’s not the advice of someone who doesn’t know how to feel anymore. That’s the advice of someone who’s had their feelings used against him a few times too many.”

“But he’s safe now. Why would he think he needs to hide how he feels here?”

“Being safe and feeling safe are too very different things. If he’s spent the last seventy years under constant threat, he’s not going to relax easily.”

“But why attack a kitten? He can’t possibly have thought this little thing was a threat.”

The kitten had rolled onto its back, batting at the string with little paws.

“Do you want to know what he said me in the gym the other day?” Sam said. “His lesson.”

In his hiding place in the vents, Bucky felt a rush of fear that Sam would betray him like this, that he would give away the message that had been meant as a secret. If people knew that he had warned Sam, they would think he cared about him. Maybe he could claim he had just been protecting himself, just wanting to keep Sam from caring about him.

“He told me never to let them see that I care about anyone or anything. It was a warning, telling me how to protect myself.”

“Let who see?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty obvious he doesn’t feel safe here. He still thinks there’s a threat he’s got to be wary of.”

\---

Bucky waited for Steve in the apartment. He waited all afternoon. He waited until it reached the time they would usually prepare dinner together and then he continued to wait.

He laid the pots and knives out so everything would be ready and still he waited.

Was this his punishment? Did Steve want nothing to do with him anymore?

It had been dark outside for some hours when Steve finally arrived. He startled at the sight of Bucky standing in the kitchen area.

“Oh. Are you still up?”

“I was waiting so we could make dinner.”

Steve looked at the equipment laid out ready.

“I ate with Sam. Sorry, I guess I should have let you know.”

Bucky started to put the pots and knives away. This was a familiar punishment. This was better than the look on Steve’s face when he’d taken the cat away or the tone of his voice as he’d been talking to Sam.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Steve asked.

“I can endure seventy eight hours without food before my combat performance is noticeably diminished. Ninety one before the diminishment is significant.”

“That’s…” Steve was doing his trying-not-to-be-angry thing again. “That’s worryingly precise. It’s also not what I asked you. Do you feel hungry?”

That was a difficult question to answer because hunger was a relative thing, a sliding scale that couldn’t simply be split into hungry and not. He was more hungry now than after finishing breakfast but less hungry than he’d been when his handler had decided to punish him for trying to share his food with Kitten when they didn’t give him any food for her.

While Bucky struggled to answer the question, Steve asked another, “Do you eat all your meals with me?”

“No. Barton has twice told me to share pizza with him. Stark gave me donuts when he analysed my arm. Sam made popcorn when we watched Shaun of the Dead.”

“All those are times someone’s given you something. Have you never just made yourself a snack?”

“No.”

“But what about when I’m out at meetings? What do you do for lunch then?”

“Nothing.”

“Jesus. No wonder you always eat such big portions at dinner. You’re allowed to eat, Bucky. If you’re hungry, you can help yourself.”

He said it like it should have been obvious, like he’d expected Bucky to just know, but Bucky didn’t think he’d ever just helped himself. Even in the time before Hydra, in that barely remembered past, there had been hunger. There had been waiting to see that Steve ate first.

“Bucky,” Steve continued, “I’m upset right now but that doesn’t mean I expect you to starve.”

“You’re upset because I was going to kill the kitten.”

“Yes. I don’t… Why would you do that, Buck?” There was something almost desperate in Steve’s tone, like Bucky’s answer could be a matter of life and death.

Bucky knew that he was being observed, knew that Jarvis was watching and could report to Stark anything that was said in here. But he heard that tone in Steve’s voice and knew that he had to give an answer. He had to make Steve understand or he might be deprived of Steve’s smiles and it would all be his own doing.

“Hydra gave me a kitten.”

“What?”

“My handler said it was a reward. He told me it was for me to care for. When I did well, they gave me food for it. When I did badly, they hurt Kitten. Hurting Kitten was a more effective punishment than hurting me. There were a lot of punishments. A broken neck is a quick death, a merciful end. I wouldn’t let them hurt Kitten anymore. I wouldn’t let anyone use another’s suffering against me again.”

Steve looked pale, horrified, as he stared at Bucky. “Is that what you thought I was doing? Did you think I would give you a pet just to hurt it?”

“Yes.” He’d known he was wrong when he’d seen Steve’s reaction, but he couldn’t lie about that having been his thought.

Steve didn’t try to hide his anger. “I’m not Hydra, Buck! I’m not like them. I would never do anything like that. You have to know that.”

“What about the people you report to? You said you might not be able to protect me from them.”

“There are people who want to see you put on trial for being the Winter Soldier, both here and abroad, but no respectable government would do anything like that. They’d put you in prison, yes, execute you, maybe, but nothing like that. Plus, the US government wouldn’t turn you over to anywhere that allows torture because it would cause a public opinion backlash that would get them all put out of office if I and Stark’s media budget have anything to say about it.”

Bucky understood something then that he hadn’t grasped before.

“The people who will try and take me away,” he said, “the people who would want to hurt me, who you and Dr Arthur talk to about me, they’re not your commanders. They’re your enemies.”

“Yes, Buck.” Steve hesitated. “Mostly. It’s complicated and some of them are in the government and have authority, but yes. Anyone who tries to hurt you is my enemy.”

Bucky was quiet, reassessing what this meant for his situation. He thought back over the previous conversations he’d shared with Steve, the way that Steve had promised not to punish him, and had kept trying to tell him that he was safe.

Bucky had known it wasn’t completely true, known that Steve had been reporting on him to others who were a danger, but he had assumed that Steve would follow their orders if it came to punishing him. Now he remembered the conversation about orders, and how Steve had disobeyed once, a long time ago, to rescue him from those who had hurt him. Steve would rescue him from his enemies.

“I’m sorry, Buck, that I didn’t make that clear. You’re safe here, as safe as I can make you. Showing that you care will help me do that.” 

“I don’t understand.” Showing caring was a vulnerability, a dangerous one. 

“The people I’m trying to protect you from believe you’re just the Winter Soldier, Hydra’s weapon. I want to show them that you’re more than that, that you’re a person with thoughts and feelings. If I can show that you are compassionate and caring, it will help sway the other people who might otherwise listen to them. You started hiding what you felt because it was necessary to survive Hydra, but it’s not helpful to you anymore. It’s OK to show that you feel, to make friends.” 

Bucky’s heart was racing as he heard that, his whole being filling with terror at the thought of going along with what Steve suggested. His body remembered pain even when his mind was wiped clean and he was afraid of the very idea. But he could follow the logic of what Steve was saying, even if it was hard to make himself believe it. 

Steve was still talking. “The people in this tower are friends, or at least they can be. You may not think of them as friends yet, but I do. They will protect you because they know I want to protect you and no one is going to hurt them to hurt you.”

Bucky thought about that too. He wasn’t ready yet to admit that maybe he did like Sam a little, but he had already laid one vulnerability out for Steve tonight. He could cope with laying out another for him. A small one. He would put his trust in Steve, even if everything about it was utterly terrifying.

"Could I see Tabitha?" he asked.

Steve's smile was bright and glorious. It was a reward Bucky would take risks for a chance to see again.

“Of course.”

\---

Sam seemed considerably less happy than Steve at being dragged to the door just as he’d got into bed, but he let them into his apartment. Tabitha was curled up in a little basket beside the coffee table, so Bucky didn’t want to wake her. He crouched down beside the basket and watched her sleep.

“Everything OK?” Sam asked Steve quietly.

“I think so. We had a bit of a talk. You were right.”

“I was? About which part?”

“About him being afraid of caring for anything. I think we’ve got it all sorted out now though.”

“Good.”

Bucky only half listened to the conversation. He fixed his eyes on the little kitten, the fragile and helpless piece of life that Steve had offered to him to care for. He could look after her, see that she had food and things to play with. He could give her company and keep her clean. He could protect her and make sure that no one ever hurt her the way they had hurt Kitten.

He could do all that without having to hide how he felt about her. He could care for Tabby and Steve would protect him from anyone who would use that against him. Here, in this place that Steve promised him was safe, with no one to see it but Sam and Steve, and where the only surveillance was by people Steve insisted were friends, Bucky let himself smile just a little.

He wasn’t the man he had been before Hydra, but maybe he could take back something they’d stolen from him. Maybe he could learn to care again and not be afraid to show it. He would start with Tabitha. If Steve kept all his promises, the way he wanted to believe he would, then he could move on to Sam. He could try having friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've enjoyed this, come join me on [Tumblr](http://jessicameats.tumblr.com) for whatever fandom thing has caught my attention this week. Or, for more about my writing, you can check out my main [writing blog](http://plot-twister.co.uk). 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left comments. Comments are always appreciated. :)


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